graven images
by qqueenofhades
Summary: Deckerstar meets Captain Swan, for important reasons. Fluff, bickering, arguments about who is more devilishly handsome, and unexpected feels ensue. Became a two-shot, because of course it did.
1. Chapter 1

**graven images**

Chloe and Lucifer met them completely by accident, the one time they weren't even investigating a crime – were just walking down Hollywood Boulevard, and a family of three went past the other way. Blonde mother in a red leather jacket, dark-haired father in a black one, and a teenage son running ahead, saying something about how they were going to Disneyland tomorrow and he had already planned it to the hilt. The mother shouted at him to wait, and as she was doing so, accidentally knocked into Lucifer, who looked smug, clearly considering it yet another successful case of any females in the area drawn to him like iron filings to a magnet. She turned to him to apologize, blinked, and said, "Sorry, do I know you from somewhere?"

"Your dreams?" Lucifer suggested. "I do have such a striking effect on women. I can imagine they were very enjoyable dreams, too."

"Hey." The woman's husband cleared his throat. Chloe couldn't help but notice that he was hardly about to be kicked out of bed for eating crackers himself. "Watch your mouth, mate."

"Killian, it's fine, he's just being – well, like you usually are." His wife rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said to Chloe, rather loudly, clearly recruiting her in the effort to disrupt the ambient levels of testosterone in the air. "It's our first trip out to L.A., he's a bit… well. It's new to him."

Chloe bit a smile. "It can be quite an experience," she agreed, liking the other woman instinctively for no reason she could put her finger on. "I'm Chloe Decker."

"Emma Swan." The women shook, even as the men were still aiming identically tall, dark, and handsome glares at each other. Noticing the badge on her belt, Emma looked surprised. "You're a cop?"

"Homicide detective, LAPD," Chloe said, rather awkwardly. It was always a bit like turning up dressed as an undertaker at a party; everyone wasn't sure whether or not to be alarmed by your presence, and you usually had the effect of killing the mood. "I'm actually, well, not on duty right now, though. We were just on our way home."

"I'm a sheriff," Emma said. "In – well, we're from a little town in Maine that I am sure you haven't heard of. It's the boonies, so I can imagine you deal with plenty of bigger things here. We have, um, some interesting problems, though. Special cases."

"Really?" Chloe doubted that. "Meth-addicted backwooders, that kind of thing?"

"Actually," Emma's husband said. "More like bloody hellbeasts and memory-erasing curses every two days. Bit of a pain in the arse."

"Bloody hellbeasts?" Lucifer, who until now had looked as utterly bored with the conversation as he did whenever nobody was naked, dead, or naked and dead, suddenly perked up. "What sort of hellbeasts? The hounds? Just give them a raw steak, they'll shut right up."

Emma blinked at him. "Excuse me? You are…?"

"Lucifer Morningstar, darling." He bent to press her hand to his lips in a kiss which caused Chloe to elbow him and Emma's husband to glare further. "Charmed."

" _Lucifer?"_ Emma sounded amused. "So, you're the devil, then?"

Lucifer gawked at her, forgetting for once to be suave and urbane, and Chloe felt a twinge of something either defensiveness or surprise. The former, however, recovered himself first, and smiled broadly, clearly delighted to be taken at his word for a change. "Exactly."

"Well then, feels like home after all. This is my husband, Killian Jones. Probably better known as Captain Hook."

"Hey," Chloe said. She might not get Lucifer's insistence on his whole devil shtick, but she wasn't about to stand here and let them make fun of him to his face. "He's a little strange, all right, but that doesn't mean – "

Killian Jones coughed. "She doesn't mean to mock you, love. I – well, we just thought that all the people like us were in Storybrooke."

"People like us? Storybrooke?" Chloe was feeling distinctly as if someone had pulled the carpet out from under her. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"People from stories." It was the teenage son, who had doubled back to see what was taking his parents so long. "We're in Storybrooke. That's our home. He _is_ Captain Hook, and my grandparents are Snow White, Prince Charming, and Rumplestiltskin. My adoptive mother is the ex-Evil Queen, and my aunt is the Wicked Witch of the West. My girlfriend grew up in Camelot under King Arthur, but she came here in one of the curses." He paused. "Hi, my name's Henry, by the way."

"That's… uh… very interesting." Chloe stole a surreptitious look around to see if there were any easily grabbable psychiatric nurses nearby. "So Lucifer is supposed to, what, _be_ there with the rest of you?"

"We already met Hades," Killian Jones said grimly. "Lord of the Underworld. He did say there was one level down, the worst place anyone could end up. I'm assuming that's your jurisdiction?"

"You know _Hades?"_ Lucifer looked stunned. "And you're still alive?"

"Well, rather." Killian coughed. "Long story. Has to do with Zeus."

"Excuse me?" Chloe was wondering if this was accidentally a highly colorized dream, and she had dozed off in the police cruiser. "Are you even speaking English?"

"Pampered smarmy git?" Killian said, ignoring her. "I thought the devil would be a bit more _frightening,_ but then he isn't, isn't he?"

"Pampered smarmy git?" Lucifer looked even more stunned. "You can't possibly be talking about me."

"Changed my mind," Chloe said. "I like them."

"Hush, Detective, you're the infant in this situation. Well, Hades _is_ a ginger, we know he's a spooky soulless bastard. Kept trying to hoard my souls as well, had to give him a _very_ stern talking-to before I left, but since I'm here, I wouldn't be surprised if he's back to cocking things up again." Lucifer shrugged. "I suppose I don't even want to ask how that came about?"

"Not really," Killian Jones said. "Though that was only the third time I died."

"Only?" Chloe said faintly. Nobody paid any attention.

"Well," Emma broke in, clearly taking pity on her. "It got sorted out."

"Aye." Killian grinned. "Just too devilishly handsome for the world to be deprived of me."

Lucifer looked stung. "As we already established, _I_ am the devil. I'm the only one allowed to say that."

"No, you're not, because I am, and it's a fact."

"No, I am." Lucifer folded his arms.

"No, you're not."

"No, I am."

" _No, you're not!"_

" _No, I am!"_

"Oh my God," Emma said. "I am _so_ sorry."

Chloe bit her lip, forcing herself not to smile. When she actually did wake up, she wanted to remember this. "Apparently they're both five."

"Three hundred," Killian said indignantly.

"Countless millennia," Lucifer shot back.

"Yeah," Henry said, likewise biting a grin. "Think he has you beat on that one, Killian."

"Whose side are you on, lad?!"

Chloe raised an eyebrow further, even as she noted in surprise that as it would be strange for Henry to call his father by his first name, he was apparently his stepfather instead. It gave her a strange lurch, though why she couldn't have said. Just… Emma reminded her of herself, and God knew Killian and Lucifer could probably go on like this all day, but there was something very intrinsically alike about them as well. More than that, really, and it was unsettling. Not that it meant anything. She was probably still dreaming, anyway.

"Right, you two," Emma said. "Hate to break up the pissing contest, but we should get going. Again, I apologize profusely. As I said, he hasn't really been, you know, outside Storybrooke much."

"Me too." Chloe grabbed Lucifer by the arm, glaring significantly at him, and he immediately deflated by several degrees. "I hope you enjoy your trip."

As the three of them moved off, Lucifer still rather ruffled, he nonetheless didn't look away. Chloe considered briefly that it must have been the first time anyone had both accepted his claims of being the Devil at face value, then proceeded to treat him absolutely no differently because of it – no eye-rolling, no snickering, no asking who he really was or if he had fallen out of the delusions of grandeur tree and hit every branch on the way down. There was something about his face that was… lonely, almost sad, and it made her heart twinge again. "Hey," she said softly, shaking his arm. "Hey, Lucifer, it's all right, they're just… well, they were weird, frankly, and I don't quite get them, but I'm glad they believed you."

He looked at her with a wry smile, but didn't say anything. Then he pulled away from her touch and drew himself back together, closing himself off, shutting away whatever moment of vulnerability he had had, back to the smile, back to the charm, back to the mask, and she could not help but feel oddly bereft. "Well, Detective," he said. "Shall we?"

* * *

Chloe didn't think they'd cross paths again. They did that evening.

This time it was in Lux, and it was just Emma and Killian, Henry having apparently been safely disposed of at the hotel so the grownups could have a date night out. Emma was wearing a bombshell of a red dress, Killian a stylishly zipped vest and skinny jeans and eyeliner, indistinguishable from any other clubgoers as they danced and ground on the floor and at a break in the music, went to get drinks (rum for Killian, a Mai Tai for Emma) from Maze. It was then that Lucifer spotted them, and his jaw dropped. Then he was sidling over to them, whisking the drinks from Maze's hand and passing them along the bar. "Fancy seeing you here."

"Wh – oh. Hi." Emma glanced up at him, surprised and flushed, fanning herself. "You?"

"He owns the place." Chloe followed him over, reminding herself that it was so Lucifer did not ostentatiously hit on a married woman in front of her husband and thus start a bar fight. Killian did appear to be missing a hand, so maybe he had adopted the Captain Hook persona the same way Lucifer had with the Devil business: a way to feel powerful, in control, mythical and unstoppable, rather than let the pain close over his head and drown him. Chloe hoped for his sake that he didn't try anything, as she had seen Lucifer do all sorts of things without explanation, flicking people aside with one hand as if they were no more than ants. "Lux. The club. It's his."

"Lux – oh. Light." It was Killian who spoke this time, raising his voice over the thumping bass. "Makes sense the one who was supposed to be the Lightbringer would use that name, doesn't it?"

Lucifer eyed him for a long moment. Then to Emma he said, "Does he have scars on his back?"

"What?" She blinked. "No, not that I've seen. Why?"

"He has a thing about suspecting people of being other angels sent to kill him," Chloe said, laying a restraining hand on Lucifer's arm. "Goes with the Devil territory, apparently."

"No. Trust me, I'm no bloody angel." Killian snorted mirthlessly. "I did fall out of heaven, though."

"What? You too?" Lucifer picked up the nearest drink, which was the rum, and tossed it back. "What the hell – are you some bloody bizarre version of me that I haven't met? My fetch? I swear, if someone else is running around pretending to be me again, I'll – "

"Lucifer! Easy! Jeez!" Chloe tightened her grip. "They're just here to vacation, all right?"

"Yes, well, this is all sounding a bit too uncanny for my taste," Lucifer growled, dark eyes flashing with a hint of that genuine terror he could inspire, when Chloe very well could believe that – if not the devil – he was something more than humans were usually accustomed to, the very manifestation of things that went bump in the night. "Forgive me for wanting to be sure."

"I'm not an angel," Killian repeated. "And I don't particularly want to kill you, unless you're a friend of the Dark One. Rumplestiltskin."

"Him? He's an _arse._ I'm the only true Prince of Darkness, and he's a bloody poser. Horrible skin problems, too."

"Well, then." Killian raised an eyebrow. "Think we're getting along after all."

Lucifer harrumphed, but once more consented to dial the open menace back, and the tense atmosphere eased somewhat. He whisked the rum bottle out of Maze's hand and poured a new tipple for Killian, apparently in apology for drinking his earlier. "You know, I am beginning to suspect we have quite a bit in common."

"Aside from the devilish handsomeness?"

"I will munificently choose to overlook the fact that I told you not to say that, and leap to the essence of the thing – which is yes, rather a lot." Lucifer eyed him consideringly. "Troubled relations with a distant father who abandoned you and stabbed you in the back?"

Killian looked startled. "How did you know?"

"Elder brother who's a complete self-righteous prat and always thinks he knows the best, makes decisions on your behalf and never asked you, had to fall off his pedestal and get his halo tarnished, but when it comes down to it, _probably_ will end up fighting for you?"

Killian looked even more startled. "Wh – no, Liam did everything he could for me, I don't – but, well, that does sound – "

"Well," Emma said. "This _is_ surprising."

"My turn to guess, then," Killian went on, as Lucifer blinked, clearly not expecting the tables to be turned so abruptly. "You and her – you'd die for her, mate. Might already have. As I said, it's been three times for me, so I'm guessing there's been a first for you?"

"What?" Chloe and Lucifer said in unison. "No."

Emma made a small strangled sound that caused them to look at her in confusion, as she coughed vigorously into her hand. "Sorry," she said. "I just, for a second there, I – "

"Flashed back to us, didn't you?" Killian raised an eyebrow. "Seem to recall you doing that whole song and dance to me, eh, Swan?"

Emma's cheeks went pink. "I just – I had to be careful, all right?"

"As does she, evidently, around a fellow dashing rapscallion such as this." Killian surveyed Chloe with barely suppressed amusement. "Speaking of similarities?"

"Yeah." Emma looked at him softly. "I noticed."

Chloe was not sure what exactly they meant, but she was also sure it was leading in a dangerous direction, especially as Lucifer was still not quite meeting her eyes after Killian's earlier comment about him being willing to die for her. That – well, that was just because he never would, obviously. If there was one thing someone like him could never do, it would be willing to give up everything, even his life, for someone else. Sure, Lucifer _had_ taken three bullets for her just hours after they met, from that skeezy music producer who'd had Delilah killed, but… well, she didn't know how he'd survived that, but she did remember hitting the floor and saying she didn't want to die, and him crouched above her, and then whatever had happened… and seeing him get shot and very definitely not survive it, by Malcolm in the hangar… walking back, _I died but I got better…_ and his odd evasiveness every time she tried to get a straight answer why…

This was very unsettling indeed, and she smiled instead. "Hey. Great song. Don't you two wanna dance?"

"Oh no, Detective," Lucifer said, with a slightly toothy grin. "We're conducting a science experiment here. In the interests of data, would you and your fellow fetching female officer of the law here note how much, exactly, _you_ have in common?"

"What? Why?" Chloe was starting to feel slightly cornered. "Yes, we're both cops, and yes, we seem to have attracted the same sort of annoyingly handsome men with fantasy identities and daddy issues who like to – "

"Oh, you certainly attracted me," Lucifer said with a smirk. "And annoyingly handsome, am I? My land, I need a couch to faint on. But indeed. Continue."

Chloe gritted her teeth, looking at Emma for help. "That's probably it, isn't it?"

Emma smiled gently. "Not a great relationship with your parents? Trouble understanding them, letting them in, and it's been easier with your father than your mother?"

"My father's dead, but…" Chloe opened and shut her mouth. "With my mom, yeah."

"A past you want to get away from, probably some time on the wrong side of the tracks? Trust issues, sky-high walls? Never want to let anyone get close, because they'll let you down?"

"Oh, my," Lucifer said. "You're _very_ good. Tell me, what does she really think about me?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. Ignoring him, she said to Chloe, still gently, "There was someone who hurt you, wasn't there? A guy you were with? Didn't trust you, didn't believe in you, didn't tell you the truth? Let you think all this time that you were the one in the wrong?"

"Detective Douche!" Lucifer exclaimed, as Chloe shot him a death glare. "I love this game!"

Chloe cringed. "I… well, that does sound like my ex-husband," she said lamely. "A lot, actually. We tried to work it out for Trixie – well, I tried, I thought he did, but he was just keeping everything from me, and…" She trailed off. "I don't think I can ever trust him again."

"Mine was named Neal," Emma said quietly. "I had to forgive him eventually, and I did. And Trixie… you have a daughter?"

"Yeah. She's eight." Chloe smiled wanly. "How old is Henry?"

"Thirteen. He… it's been a journey for me. I had to give him up when he was born, because of what Neal did to us, and, well…" Emma took a deep breath, then looked up again, expression slightly watery, but warm. "We've made a lot of progress. We're a family."

"Aye, love," Killian said gently. "That we are."

"Wait," Lucifer interrupted, frowning. "You _like_ her child?"

"Henry? What? Of course I do! He's – he's like a son to me, and I… I've always wanted – "

"I take it back." Lucifer shuddered. "We have nothing in common after all."

"Oh, shut up." Chloe smacked him on the arm. "For some befuddling reason, Trixie likes you. I know your way of dealing with that is to treat her like a small dog, but you could at least _try – "_

"She likes me? Like daughter, like mother, then. I could give _you_ a treat, you know. By which I mean me." Lucifer beamed at her. "I'm the treat."

"Oh my God." Chloe raised her eyes to the sparkling, revolving disco-ball heavens, as if imploring Him to do something about His renegade offspring with absolutely zero sense of shame or propriety. Not that God was the sort to be caught dead in a place like this, possibly literally. Very, decidedly unholy. "I still can't believe you sometimes."

Killian coughed. "Bloody hell, mate, does that line actually work?"

"I don't know," Emma said with a grin. "I seem to recall you saying some pretty similar things."

"I was never that unstylish."

"Sure, sure, Mr. 'Worried you'll find me even more irresistible after a few libations?' Whatever you say."

Killian looked miffed, Lucifer looked smug (so, in other words, his usual expression) and Emma glanced at Chloe with that same grin, which Chloe returned before she could stop herself. This _was_ getting more ridiculously unsettling than it had any right to be, and looking at the two of them amiably bickering about, well, the exact same things she and Lucifer bickered about, along with all the similarities they had already catalogued… no, it wasn't looking into their future or anything, of course not. She would never be as ridiculous as to _marry_ him, of course not. That would indicate that she was in love with him in the first place, or that he was in love with her, and that was even more ridiculous. Of course not. Totally crazy. Definitely not the same thing.

Not at all.

* * *

The third time they met was a few days later, after Emma, Killian, and Henry had been to Disneyland and Killian was voluminously horrified at their grossly inaccurate and insulting depiction of Captain Hook (totally different, of course, from Lucifer bitching and whining about how the world got the Devil completely wrong). The two of them dropped by Lux in the daytime, clearly hoping to catch Lucifer and Chloe in a quiet moment, and they _were_ there (it was work-related, they had a lot to go over, it was legit). Lucifer insisted that they come up to his penthouse, swooped Killian off to the balcony to commiserate about their misunderstood natures, and Chloe found herself sitting next to Emma on the sofa. Once Emma glanced over to be sure the boys were deep in conversation, she said, "You like him, don't you?"

"Him? Lucifer?" As if there was really anyone else they could be discussing. "We … we work well together, and I… I can trust him, that's all."

"Which isn't easy for you to do," Emma said, continuing that unnerving habit of seemingly being the voice in her head. "With anyone. He's probably the only one you really let your guard down with. Take off your armor."

Chloe bit her tongue. "How did you…"

"How do you think?" Emma looked at her with that same gentle expression.

"All right, we're scarily alike, and they – " Chloe glanced over at the chinwag – "seem to be getting along as well, after their rocky start. I just…"

"I know because it feels like talking to myself," Emma said. "Trust me. I did everything you're doing, and then some. I pushed him away and I kept him at arm's length and I tested him and I tested him, and every time he backed away, I – "

"Had to go make sure he hadn't actually left." Chloe bit her tongue again, harder, wishing she could take back the words the instant they were out of her mouth, but feeling oddly and impossibly relieved to have finally said it at last. "Didn't like it when he was anywhere else. When he didn't tell me everything. Because I… I never wanted him to actually stop."

"Yes." Emma reached out to put a hand on hers. "And I know exactly where you are. I just… it's not my place to tell you how to live your life, but when I finally did open up, when I took a chance and let Killian in – I haven't regretted it. Not once, not for a day. There's been pain, there's been turmoil, there's been loss and grief and death, but we're still here, and that means more to me than I can ever say. If the day comes, I… I want you to think about doing the same."

Chloe opened and then shut her mouth. "He thinks he's the devil," she said lamely. "That's not exactly a foundation for a solid relationship."

"I didn't ever imagine myself marrying Captain Hook, I can assure you."

"So you think he actually is?"

"Oh, he actually is." Emma's smile turned wry. "It's all true. All of it. All the stories. The other worlds. I've been to some of them myself, including the underworld – which was where we met Hades. I was just like you. I didn't believe in anything. I was closed off. No magic, nothing like that, nothing that couldn't be explained. But there's more than that. I have absolutely no reason to doubt that your Lucifer is exactly who he says, and that there's probably a twist, that the stories have it wrong. Peter Pan is my son's great-grandfather, and he's insane. Bo Peep is a dangerous warlord who racketeered my dad, Prince Charming, when he was growing up as a shepherd in fairytale land. Elsa from _Frozen_ turned out to be my best friend." She snorted, but her face was soft. "I know I probably sound insane, but… it's true."

"Yeah," Chloe said, even more faintly. "Yeah, a bit. Elsa from _Frozen?_ Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Oh God. Don't let Trixie hear that she's real. She'd have a heart attack and die." Chloe scrubbed her hands over her face. "I can't believe I'm buying into this."

"It takes time," Emma said. "But if I can, I know you can too."

"All right. Well." Chloe shook her head like a dog. "I… I suppose I'll give it a try."

Emma smiled at her, with such brilliance that it was as if a second sun had come out from behind a cloud, and cast dazzling diamonds over the water. "Well," she said. "Good."

* * *

"So," Killian said, sipping his rum and leaning on the balcony wall. "You died for her, didn't you?"

"It was not by choice, I assure you." Lucifer took a drag on his cigarette, gazing down at the scurrying maze of Los Angeles below. "That scurrilous parasite Malcolm shot me, and I… well, long and boring stories aside, I only bleed when Detective Decker is around, which she was. I couldn't protect her, he was going to kill her, and I… I did the only thing I could."

"Traded your life for hers," Killian completed. "Thought so."

Lucifer shot a shifty look over his shoulder. "Oy, hush it, would you? She doesn't know."

"Ah." Killian considered, then took another sip. "I wouldn't tell Emma that I'd traded my ship to get back to her – several curses ago, I'm not sure how many. The same reasons as you, I expect. She rather had to know about the dying, I'm afraid. It happened in front of her the first two times. She had to kill me herself, the third."

Lucifer flinched. "Bloody hell, and people think _I'm_ cruel. Whatever fate is in charge of _your_ life makes me look like Betty bloody Crocker making cupcakes."

"It was unavoidable. I'd… fallen. Given into the darkness." Killian's face was inward-looking, introspective. "Too much a part of me to fight it, when I was struggling to get away from it for so long and was tied to it instead."

"Oh?" Lucifer looked at him for a long moment. "But you overcame it."

"Aye," Killian said softly. "For her. Nothing else in the world mattered, but that she was safe."

Lucifer tapped the ashes off his cigarette and took a long drag. Then another one. Then another one, until it was burned down to a stump, he flicked it off the balcony, and straightaway lit another one. "Fell out of heaven, did you say?"

"Rather differently from you, I think." Killian grinned sadly. "Mine was returning to my old life. Yours was losing it."

"Touché." Lucifer grinned back, without humor. He wasn't exactly sure how to articulate just what he was feeling, his odd desire for the other man not to go, to talk with him more, to talk with him for days. _Is this what it is, having a friend?_ Considering what had happened with Father Frank, and what Killian had already said about his propensity for dying, it made him look nervously around for some sort of convenient lethal contraption. He didn't want that, not again, not now. "Your father was terrible too, you said?"

"Sold my brother and me into slavery," Killian said. "Hard to do much worse."

"My father sold me into slavery as well. Made me a torturer. Threw me out of my home. I…" Lucifer had to take a moment to compose himself. "I… well, you know, this is unexpected for me, but I feel… at ease with you. Nobody believes me about this Devil business, not even the detective, and it… it's been good. To talk, I mean. With you understanding."

"I'm familiar with it, aye." Killian looked at him gently. "The last thing I'd do is judge you, mate. I've been plenty bloody awful myself. Likely worse."

"No, I don't think so." Lucifer tossed back his own rum. "If you do find yourself back in Los Angeles, well, my door is always open. I'd not mind seeing you again." He paused, then corrected himself. "I mean. I'd very much like it."

Killian smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Lucifer, startled, glanced up to meet his eyes. "Make you a bargain. You tell Chloe what you did, or at least think about it, and I'll try to persuade Emma to come back. Even if I do have to suffer that hideous abortion sullying my good name at the theme park again. Henry's never going to stop laughing, I'm afraid."

"That's why children are terrible little fiends who can't be trusted," Lucifer muttered. "I knew I was right to regard them so dimly."

Killian looked up at him. "There aren't any children in hell, are there? Or very, very, very few. You don't know any, and that's why you've no idea how to manage them. They're innocent. They don't end up with you. No wonder you can't relate."

Lucifer opened and shut his mouth, feeling slightly stunned – and oddly, impossibly, quite heartbroken. "I never thought of that."

"Aye, well. If the little lass likes you, perhaps you can give it a try, eh? For Chloe's sake."

"I still don't see why she has to hug me every time. It's quite disconcerting."

Killian grinned crookedly. "Trust me."

"Well, anyway," Lucifer said hastily. "More rum?"

"Think I'm good for now, mate." Killian clapped him on the shoulder, and then they clasped hands. "I'll see you again."

Lucifer hesitated. He felt that strange thing happening again, that softness, that oddness, that change. Almost as if he was something he hadn't been in thousands and thousands of years – grateful. Almost as if he could barely stand it. Almost as if, in some small part of him, he could see the light that was his name, that was his birthright, and he was not afraid.

"Yes," he said hoarsely. His voice was not quite as strong as normal, and he swallowed hard. Looked at his graven image, and clasped back. "Yes, you will."


	2. Chapter 2

**ii.**

It was past midnight when Emma's phone buzzed on the bedside table, as she and Killian were drowsing in comfortable stupor with her head on his chest. They were mostly asleep, so she snorted, rolled off him, and fumbled for it, surprised to see the unfamiliar 310 area code on the caller ID. She blanked on who it could possibly be, until she remembered. Gave her number to Chloe before they left L.A, told her to keep in touch. She grimaced, swiped her hair out of her face, and said groggily, "Hello?"

"Is it – oh god. I forgot about the time difference. You're three hours ahead of us on the East Coast. I'm sorry." Chloe sounded frazzled. "I'll call back later."

"No, it's fine." Emma sat up. "Is something wrong?"

"It's – no. It's not an emergency. I just…" Chloe took a deep breath and then, "ImayhaveagreedtogooutwithLuciferandIdon'tthinkitwasagoodideaandcanyoutellmeifIjustscrewedmyselfbecause – "

"Whoa. What? Can you repeat that?" Emma leaned back, conscious of Killian's curious stare. "You what? Lucifer?"

"Yes. I may have… well, we did, really. We're going on, well. A date. An actual one." Chloe blew out a breath. "Did I just make a horrible mistake?"

Killian, overhearing this through the phone, got a smirk that, quite literally, the Devil himself could not remove. He leaned closer, as Emma hissed and tried to push him off; this was important girl-to-girl business, they could deal with his inevitable gloating later. He gave her puppy eyes, which was so distracting that she almost forgot to answer Chloe. "I'm – no, that's wonderful. Our first one was – memorable, but it was good. Dinner somewhere, or what?"

"Something like that. He says he's going to plan it. Is it too late to change my mind?"

"No," Emma said gently. "But give it a try."

Chloe was silent for a moment on the other end of the phone; Emma could hear her breathing. She knew it wasn't that Chloe didn't want to do this, but she was hedging about finally, actually easing into anything approaching a relationship, trying to have a serious, mature connection with a man who, despite how much he'd changed, was still an infamous philanderer and debauched club owner and glib, sarcastic, dangerous, damaged soul, even without the whole Devil thing thrown into the mix. Emma got it. She did. Not even because the feared Captain Hook, scourge of the seven seas and mighty pirate menace, with a shadowy and bloodstained career of several centuries, was lying on her lap with absolutely ridiculous bedhead and gazing at her adoringly.

She bit a grin and said to Chloe, "Tell me how it goes."

* * *

Some months later, after things had gone _very_ well indeed on the West Coast and were changing on the East Coast, after Emma called Chloe to let her know that she was having a daughter and frantically asking for tips on how to parent a girl, after Caitriona Rose Jones was born lustily howling her lungs out at 3:00 in the morning, Emma and Killian decided to ask a question.

Lucifer was absolutely, utterly _horrified_ at the idea, not least indignantly wanting to know why anyone would inflict a helpless child with something as awful as a _godparent._ He had a godparent himself, literally, and they are Not All They Are Cracked Up To Be. This was probably child abuse. He clucked and complained and fussed until Chloe took the phone from him, audibly hit him with it, and told Emma they would love to come to Maine and see her.

(Lucifer was still whining when they hung up.)

(Lucifer was still whining when Emma and Killian picked the three of them up at the airport in Portland and drove them up to Storybrooke.)

(Lucifer was still whining when they walked up the steps into their house, Henry appeared with Cait in his arms, Chloe cooed and reached out to hold her, Lucifer stood as stiffly as if waiting for the firing squad, then finally glanced down at the baby's cherubic, sleeping face.)

He looked at her for a very, very long moment. Everyone waited.

"You know," he said. "I'm still not going to be your spawn's godfather. Not in a thousand years."

Emma and Killian did their best to look understanding, even if they were rather hurt. Chloe glared at him.

"But," Lucifer added. He stopped, and then a grin spread across his face from ear to ear. "I see no reason a _devilfather_ shouldn't be even better."

* * *

Thus far, despite all the promises of the weird and wild, the idea that she could physically be turned into a toad or something worse just by setting foot in this thrice-cursed (at least) crazytown with its inhabitants who took Disney cosplaying to its most extreme degree, Chloe was finding their visit to Storybrooke almost. . . well. . . normal.

Sure, there were quirks and oddities and whatever, but she figured that was the same as any small town with "character." Yes, she had met some people in the line for the coffee shop (there was only one, no Starbucks or anything, it was kind of charmingly quaint) who were absolutely convinced that they remembered entire lives in somewhere called the Enchanted Forest where their mother lived in a shoe, but they weren't _hurting_ anyone. Getting away from an endless, smoggy, traffic-ridden mega-metropolis, and her day job of investigating gruesome murders, was incredibly relaxing. You couldn't reliably get a 4G signal, there were two restaurants and one bar, and everything was shut down after 9pm. Yes, according to the residents, it was usually because some sort of mythical baddie was stalking the shadows and might curse their memories away, but it was still. . . well. . . _cute._

Therefore, it was no surprise that Lucifer was of the opinion, which he was making extenuatingly clear at every opportunity, that this was actually worse than Hell Itself, and he should know. _No cell phone coverage? No decent drink after nine o'clock? All the latest in 1980s tech?!_ What sort of horrible place had they _landed_ in? It was clearly designed for a seventy-year-old-retiree couple named Maurice and Gladys, and very well, they'd seen the spawn, the spawn was inoffensive as spawn went, he was ready to go now. Actually, yesterday. They had gone for a walk in the _woods_ , of all the gruesome things. Chloe could almost _see_ the giant NATURE, IT'S ALL OVER ME, GET IT OFF! warning sign flashing above his head.

"Cooperate," she ordered him. "We're here for the week, as we agreed. Besides, Trixie loves it. I don't care if you sit in a corner sulking the entire time, we're staying for her."

This was true, as Trixie was in absolute, utter, complete hog heaven. She was just running from princess to princess – Belle, Snow, Jasmine, Ariel, Aurora, Cinderella, and so forth – collecting autographs and chatting to them for hours about their lives. Chloe had to admit that even the most dedicated Disney cast members, who had to stay in character all day for overexcited children at theme parks, probably hadn't worked out their backstories so extensively. It was nice of them, but she kept trying to drag Trixie off and apologize for bothering them, until she finally gave up. They didn't seem to mind, and absolutely nobody turned a hair when Lucifer introduced himself as the Devil. They just wanted to know if he was going to curse the town again, or if he had a beef with the _other_ Dark One who lived around these parts. Upon discovering that the greatest threat he posed was possibly whining them all to death and drinking the town's entire supply of bourbon, they were happy to leave him be.

Speaking of the Devil, he was pouting. Again. "But Detective. It's so _boring!_ I can't believe you'd force me to endure this utter mind-numbing ordeal at such threat to my – "

"Go amuse yourself, then," Chloe said, grabbing him by the designer lapels and giving him a little shake. She was _awfully_ fond of him – they had been together long enough for her to be perfectly fine admitting that – but he was such a child. Better about many things, but not this. "I'm going to continue to enjoy my hard-earned vacation seeing Emma and the new baby and the _rest_ of the reasons we came here. As I said. You're welcome to sulk. Or have fun with Killian."

Lucifer leaned in to nuzzle her nose, looking very woebegone. "Can we have sex? That's not boring."

Chloe bit her lip, unable to stop herself from putting her arms around his neck, leaning into him. "All right," she said with a sigh and a grin. "Maybe you won't be bored tonight."

Lucifer lit up like a Christmas tree (quite an ironic metaphor, in his case, but still). "Oh? I officially don't hate this place after all."

* * *

"I hate this place," Lucifer growled, as Chloe hauled on his arm. "I hate this place!"

The dwarf – his name was apparently Leroy – was running out of the diner yelling that they were under attack, which was basically exactly how he had come running into the diner. Chloe and Lucifer were snuggled up in the corner (he had stopped whining about their completely provincial restaurant options, for once, and Granny, the owner, clearly had more than a little crush on him) and had been about to kiss, when the door banged open, the human disruption came bellowing that they were under attack from some kind of evil pig, and conclusively killed the moment. He had come pelting up to them, repeated the message in case they hadn't heard it the first time, and was rewarded for his trouble by Lucifer giving him the full red-eye blood-skull death stare, which had been the cause of his high-velocity exit. The only change was from "WE'RE UNDER ATTACK BY AN EVIL PIG!" to "I'M UNDER ATTACK BY THE DEVIL! _THE DEVIL!"_ Very sympathy-provoking, clearly.

Lucifer adjusted his cufflinks, swearing profusely under his breath, and stalked out after the other denizens of this godforsaken place (either that or dear old Dad had designed it precisely to remind him that He could still bring hell directly to him). Sure enough, some sort of giant evil black swine with burning red eyes was charging up the street, scattering parked cars left and right (fine with him, maybe they'd finally have to buy vehicles manufactured in this millennium) and the good people of Storybrooke were amassing to brace against its porcine fury. Chloe, stepping out after him, sputtered, "Wh – what is _that_ thing?"

"Monday." Emma stepped up behind them, raising her hands, which began to glow with a furious white light. "Step aside, I'll take care of it."

"Wait – monsters. Magic. This whole thing – " Chloe blinked. "All the princesses Trixie has been bothering – they're _actually – ?"_

"Can we save your existential dilemma for another time, darling?" Lucifer strolled up, tapped Emma on the shoulder, and smiled winningly. "Let me handle this, Sheriff."

"Do you know what that is?"

"Oh yes. Standard-variety hellbeast. Very tasty roasted with apples." He stepped out in front of her, put his hands on his hips, and stared evilly at the pig, which skidded to a halt so fast that it nearly left trotter-shaped marks in the street. It then whirled around and peeled out the same way it had come, hitting some invisible boundary line and exploding into ash and cinders. He regarded it with immense smugness, then revolved on the spot to take in Emma and Chloe's faces. One was impressed, the other was simply dumbstruck.

"Well," Emma said. "That is the fastest we have ever stopped a crisis around here. Wow. Thanks. Are you sure you don't want to stay?"

"I can say with the greatest of assurances, my dear sheriff." Lucifer looked sincere. "I would absolutely rather be dead. And now, please excuse me. I am going to do something very bad to that hirsute, obnoxious, undersized loudmouth."

"Mate," Killian said fervently. "Be my guest."

* * *

That was how the next day, Grumpy the Dwarf found himself tied to a tree somewhere out in the woods Lucifer had previously disdained (they did have their uses) face to face with the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea (or rather, Captain Hook). Both of them were cordially informing him that if he ever disrupted a quiet moment with either of them and their respective lady loves again, the pig was only the start of the torments that would be unleashed upon him, and that if he did not try very, very hard to develop even five percent of a brain to mouth filter, it would be even worse. Grumpy was so terrified that he had absolutely nothing to say, either then or for the next twenty-four hours. It was probably the first truly peaceful day Storybrooke had ever had.

Furthermore, Killian had had a brilliant idea as how to solve Lucifer's boredom issues, and offered that the two of them and Henry go out in the _Jolly Roger_ for a spot of adventure. Lucifer was likewise quick to grasp the possibilities that this offered, out in the sun with plenty of rum in the lockers, a pack of cigarettes in his breast pocket, and an impressionable fifteen-year-old aboard, and as Henry had finished his turn steering the ship, he sidled up to him, offering him the glass of whiskey. "So, tell me, young man. Don't you want a sip?"

"Uh. . . I'm not exactly old enough to drink, so I don't think I should – "

"Oh, come now. Boys' day out, you're almost a grownup, aren't you?" Lucifer grinned enticingly. "Away from your overprotective mothers and their fussiness? Nobody has to know. Go on. Just one taste."

Henry shot a look at Killian. "Uh – well, I would kind of like to try – "

"Excellent! So what's stopping you?" Lucifer looked at him significantly, gave it a moment. "Don't you want to be a man? A hero? Regarded as strong as everyone else?"

"Yeah," Henry said, blinking. "Yeah, I. . . I do." And with that, took the glass, took a sip, and as the full jet-fuel effect of the whiskey hit, staggered around the deck wheezing and hacking.

"Oh dear," Lucifer said, regarding the results. "Should have started with something a bit easier. Ah! Here." He took a hand-rolled cigarette of suspicious circumference out of his jacket, flicked the lighter to the tip, and took a slow drag, letting the rich, mellow buzz of cannabis flow through him, before offering it to the coughing teenager. "This is just what you need, my boy."

Henry took the cigarette, carefully inhaled, managed to do it without further asphyxiating himself, and looked rather blissed-out for the next few minutes, until Killian looped a rope around the wheel and came to join them. "What on earth are you giving the boy, Morningstar?!"

"Just a little treat. Here, we saved some for you. Try it?"

Killian tried it. His eyes went wide.

"Right, I forgot, you're from Bumfucktopia, you don't appreciate the world-changing powers of a good toke. Daresay you people had more of it, you wouldn't feel nearly so obliged to sprint around trying to fix it every time someone stubs their toe." Lucifer leaned against the railing, blowing elegant smoke rings. "So, Henry. Do you happen to know what a Penthouse Pet is?"

"No," Henry and Killian said in unison. "What is a Penthouse Pet?"

* * *

It was past dark by the time the three of them stumbled tipsily ashore, Henry loudly repeating a joke about how if Lucifer gave someone the Evil D, he was giving them the Devil, and that was funny, because Lucifer was the Devil and also liked giving people the D (although only one person these days). They were all laughing uproariously as they reached the top of the dock and ran into Emma, Regina, and Chloe, waiting for them with arms crossed and looking very much like Amenadiel on a particularly thunder-and-lightning bad day. Actually, scratch that. Worse.

"Oh," Lucifer said, skidding to a halt. "Unexpected."

"Emma," Chloe said, cringing. "I am so sorry. I am _so_ sorry. When I told him to entertain himself, I really didn't think there was much trouble he could get into in this – "

"Hey, Moms," Henry said, giggling. "Wanna hear a joke?"

"Uh, no, no, _no_ they do not." Killian sprang forward, clamping a hand over his stepson's mouth, as Henry kept giggling helplessly. "Rather a late night, eh? Everyone should get to bed?"

Regina stared at him as if very much wishing she could turn him into a little heap of ash on the spot, then whirled on Lucifer. "You – did you just let my son smoke _pot?"_

"Very fine stuff," Lucifer assured her. "You should have seen the transportation security demon's face when he found it in my bag."

"You mean a TSA agent? As if that's going to – "

"No, I mean a demon. Lots of them work in that field, for some reason." Lucifer smirked. "And your boy had a marvelous time, so what's the problem? And me, well, I haven't corrupted a youth in a few eons and it was absolutely wonderful, so everyone wins, and – "

"What – you think _corrupting a youth_ is fun and games? My _son?_ Do you have any idea who you're dealing with? I was the Evil Queen! If you ever – "

"Oh, boo-hoo, blah blah blah. Darling, I'm sure it's terribly interesting – actually, no, no, I'm sure it's terribly boring. Bee tee dubs, you got your little apple trick from me, remember?"

Regina opened and shut her mouth, as Emma and Chloe continued to glare daggers through their respective malfeasant menfolk. Henry burped and swayed gently on the spot.

"It's just a bit of booze and a smoke or two," Killian protested. "I'm sure all of us did far worse when we were the lad's age. What's the harm?"

"Your choice in friendships is very questionable, you two," Regina growled. "Very, _very_ questionable. Henry is staying with _me_ until he's left town."

"I. . ." Emma looked guilty. "You know, that's probably not a bad idea. No more Lucifer time for you, kid."

"Aw, Mom! I like him!"

"See?" Lucifer announced, turning to them with the air of a collector unveiling a priceless painting in a gallery. "He likes me!"

"Of course he does," Emma sighed. "Unfortunately, I'm the parent here, and I say no. Henry, come on. Killian, _we will talk about this later."_

As the women marched off, Henry in reluctant tow, Killian and Lucifer stood watching them go with philosophical expressions. Then Killian said, "We're sleeping on the couch for the next week, aren't we?"

Lucifer looked taken aback, as if he had never considered that his afternoon of fun and jollies could deprive him of being able to partake in his favorite activity. Then he considered it, nodded, and held up his hand.

Killian high-fived him.

* * *

"You did _what_ to Henry?" David Nolan repeated, aghast. "And you didn't even invite me? To, you know," he corrected, sensing his wife's glare. "Keep an eye on things?"

"Mate, really? You think I'm inviting my father-in-law, _and_ more pertinently the sheriff's deputy, Prince Charming, Sir Just and Upright, for a fun afternoon lark with the Devil?"

"Killian, you know I want you and Emma to feel free to live your lives, and I know you've changed a lot yourself, but how on earth do you feel like that man is appropriate to have anywhere near my grandchildren? Including my newborn granddaughter?"

"Well, if it helps," Lucifer drawled, "I don't intend to be _near_ the spawn, as much as I can possibly manage it. I hate children, you know."

David looked at him, looked at Trixie sitting on his lap clutching her drawing of Jasmine which she had just gotten her to sign and Jasmine to promise to see if she could find the magic carpet, and said, "Right."

Lucifer looked down in alarm. "What? How did the small human get there? Scram, you. Go on, fetch the stick, whatever. Shoo. Go."

"You're funny." Trixie grinned, with cherry-popsicle-stained lips. "Luci, look at my picture that I drew. Jasmine signed it."

Lucifer looked at it. "It's hideous."

Chloe hit him very hard on the leg.

"Uh, hideously. . . talented." Lucifer rubbed his thigh, eyes watering slightly. "Clearly destined for the Louvre. Priceless work of art."

"See," David said, clearly expecting that his point had been made. "Him."

"Look, I know he's weird, but he. . ." Emma waved a hand. "We like him. We like both of them. And no, none of us are eager for a repeat of last night, _are we,_ but – they live in L.A. anyway, it's not like we're going to see them all that much, and they're our friends. They are, all right?"

"I don't know," Chloe said playfully. "Think we should look into relocating."

Lucifer looked utterly aghast. "You're a sheriff's deputy, Dave? Is that what you said? Please, quickly hand me that service weapon of yours, I need to shoot myself."

"Just kidding." Chloe looked at him significantly. "But we do like Emma and Killian a lot, and we're happy to be Cait's non-godparents, and we've had a great time, despite everything."

"Well," Mary Margaret pointed out. "He did get rid of the evil pig for us. And he played the piano so beautifully the other night."

"Yes, thank you." Lucifer nodded and beamed at her. "A lady of true taste, intelligence, and beauty, a jewel beyond compare. Dare I say, the fairest of them all."

Mary Margaret giggled. Her cheeks turned pink.

"Right," David said. "He's definitely leaving."


End file.
